


Contrast

by KingMythos



Category: NCIS
Genre: First Time, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-28 19:32:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8460250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingMythos/pseuds/KingMythos
Summary: Pretty much complete, if I don't publish all the chapters at the same time, they will be out soon. There will be like 10 probably?I'd like criticism, please rip into me.I'm getting kind of sick of writing this, because I started it in like April or something crazy like that, so I apologize for boring scenes and useless paragraphs that I skipped in editing.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty much complete, if I don't publish all the chapters at the same time, they will be out soon. There will be like 10 probably?  
> I'd like criticism, please rip into me.  
> I'm getting kind of sick of writing this, because I started it in like April or something crazy like that, so I apologize for boring scenes and useless paragraphs that I skipped in editing.

“Tony! There you are.” Tim called, approaching his co-worker from behind. He’d spotted Tony’s unmistakable form as he conquered yet another one of the steep hills that framed the crime-scene. Nobody had really been looking on the other side of the hills yet. Obviously Tony had been thinking ahead; Tim honestly enjoyed Tony’s presence more when he was focused. “We’re heading back soon, so-”  
Tim froze. Tony was crouched, leaned against a tree, and wasn’t responding to Tim’s voice. He squinted. “Tony!” No movement.  
Making his way down the steep hill, Tim slid the last few meters to come to a stop on damp, mushy ground. It was coated with autumn leaves, rotting away. Tony’s back was still to him, his side pressed against a birch tree, slick with blood, that he was only now able to see. Tim’s heart stopped beating, as he rushed towards his friend, thoughts racing down the darkest of rabbit holes.  
He grasped Tony’s shoulder as he slid in front of the man, pulling his slouched body upwards to check for damage. Tony’s face came into view, and Tim bit his lower lip so hard, it was likely he took a chunk out. Tony was ghost-like, and felt cold to the touch. Tim’s hand shot up to check for a pulse, his heart restarting at the gentle beat beneath his fingertips. At that point, Tony let out a mumble.  
“Tony? Hey, man, can you hear me?”  
“Tim…?” Tony said quietly, though hadn’t opened his eyes.  
“Yeah, it’s me. You’re injured.” As he said this, Tim unzipped Tony’s jacket, ready to assess the damage.  
“Hey, hey… Buy me a drink, first…” Tony slurred. Tim didn’t smile at the bad joke, too terrified to do so. He pushed Tony’s jacket off his shoulders, and the blood was obvious against his white shirt. _Oh, God, his shoulder had been shot._  
Recently.  
_How has nobody heard? Is the guy still in the area?_ Tim went almost as pale as Tony, as he pulled off his own shirt and wrapped it tightly around the wound. He’d considered using Tony’s jacket to do that action, but Tony needed to stay warm more than ever; Tim would also get yelled at for ruining Tony’s overpriced coat. He pressed on the wound with one hand, whilst the other pulled his phone out of his pocket. His fingers shook as he called Gibbs.  
“Yeah, Tim?”  
“Gibbs… Tony’s b-been shot…”  
“Where are you?” Gibbs said, and Tim heard voices in the background, asking what was wrong.  
“I crossed a hill, we’re at the outskirts of a forest.”  
“Which hill?” Tim looked to the sky to check the sun’s location. It was hidden by tall, thick foliage and treetops. He noticed a few sparkles of sunlight that managed to slither through the leaves; the sun was around five hours from setting to the right of him.  
“N-North, I think…”  
“Hang in there, Tim. We’re coming.”  
The line went dead. Tim turned his attention back to Tony, who was beginning to rasp out air. His eyes were now open, though glazed.  
“Tony, hey, look at me.” Tony’s eyes darted to Tim, and a smile broke out on his face.  
“Hah… Where’s your shirt,Timmy?” Tim finally managed to grin at his friend. “Taking the stairs instead of the elevator finally paying off, eh?” It was obviously a compliment that came from Tony being out of it, but Tim still laughed.  
“Do you remember being shot?” Tim asked seriously.  
“I-I was shot?” Tim nodded slowly, in concern. _Can Tony not feel the pain? Was he in shock?_  
Tim prayed that Gibbs would get there soon.

 

Before he could blink, he was sitting in an ambulance, sirens blaring as a paramedic offered him a blanket. Tim accepted it, covering his bare chest, as he sat next to Tony and watched him struggle to breathe.  
“Sir?” He snapped back to attention, as one of the paramedics spoke to him.  
“Sorry?”  
“I asked, how long ago was he shot?”  
“Oh… I’m not sure, I got there possibly several minutes after it happened. So around ten minutes ago…”  
Sirens blared as he struggled to think, and he stared at Tony, willing him to be okay.  
_He has to be okay._  
Instinctively, Tim had grabbed Tony’s hand.  
_He has to be okay._


	2. Chapter 2

“S-Sir! I urge that you sit and calm yourself! What? No, you cannot go in! It’s a sterile area! Please, just take a seat, we’ll explain everything once you can listen! SIR!”  
_Crash!_  
“Excuse me, mister! Hey! Come back here!”  
Tim watched in horror as Gibbs was wrestled away from the surgery doors by two nurses and a muscular doctor. The group of four struggled over the tray Gibbs had knocked over, like a rugby scrum. Spectators averted their eyes, likely believing that Gibbs had been driven mad with concern for Tony. As the hospital staff finally began to win, Gibbs huffed angrily, alike a bull that had just seen red. He quickly came to his senses and reluctantly sat. As one of the nurses slid to the floor panting, the other fetched Gibbs some water. The doctor eyed him in both annoyance and anticipation, as if he was about to jump up yet again and rush into the surgery room.  
“Sir, I understand that you are worried for your employee, but this behaviour is unsafe. Storming in there will do far more harm than good. He’s only just arrived, we don’t know how much damage the bullet has done, we can’t tell you anything yet! So just… Just _sit!_ ”  
Despite what the doctor had said, Gibbs stood. As the nurses flinched, ready for another attack, Gibbs turned and stalked away. Tim swallowed nervously, hoping that the walking thunderstorm wouldn’t rain all over _him_. Hopefully, Gibbs would blow off all his steam before coming back.  
The doctor turned to face Tim.  
“Is that how he usually acts?” She sighed, raising her eyebrows.  
“He’s usually stubborn, but I don’t normally see him that angry. It’s just because he’s known Tony a long time.” Tim responded, slowly shaking his head. The doctor nodded, and Tim watched in slight terror as the thick muscles around her neck flexed. If she could take on Gibbs - an _angry_ Gibbs - and win? Tim shuddered. That doctor could shatter him.  
He swallowed and let his mind drift to Tony. That was a mistake, because suddenly, Tim remembered how pale Tony was, almost white, which made the bright red blood look shocking against his skin. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, how it looked, and it was a repeat of how he’d felt in the ambulance.  
Tim wanted to vomit.  
“Sir, are you okay?” One of the nurses asked, his voice sounded like dripping chocolate - oddly familiar. A hand squeezed Tim’s shoulder, and he looked at the man, whose eyes were laced with concern.  
“Please, just tell me. Is… Is he going to be okay?” Tim asked, and saw a flash of uncertainty in the man’s eyes which made his stomach turn. Quickly, it was replaced with warmth.  
“I’m sure he’ll be fine. He’s in good hands.” There was a pause. “We need to make sure you’re okay, too. How about you go outside and get some fresh air?” The nurse smiled at him, flashing his teeth, and Tim saw Tony’s stupid grin in the man’s face. In fact, the nurse practically radiated Tony’s demeanor. Tim waited to feel upset, scared, or even angry at the doppelganger. Yet, instead, the only feeling that came was an odd sense of comfort. He exited the hospital, finally feeling as if he could breathe.

 

Gibbs noticed his younger agent perched on a park bench, observing the duck pond, which had an inadequate amount of ducks. As he watched Tim, an internal debate clashed in his mind whether to approach the man or to leave him be. Tim’s body language was closed-off, his knees drawn to his chest, arms folded on top of them. Usually, that would show that a person wished to be left alone. However, this was Tim. Despite how open Tim seemed to be when it came to his banter with Tony and voicing when he was annoyed, Gibbs never could get a reading on how Tim was feeling. He seemed like an open-book type, easy to read, yet… Gibbs shook his head to himself. His other agents were far easier to see through. Tony hid behind the face of a clown, but Gibbs could sense the radiating insecurity at a constant rate - Tony had also opened up to him many a time in the past.  
Ziva, despite attempting to hide her every emotion and appear steely, in truth, she required reassurance. On the rare occasions she’d open up to Gibbs, what he saw was a childlike part of her. He’d decided long ago that this was likely due to the fact that training in Mossad, and having her father be the busy leader, had taken many childhood experiences from her.  
As long as he’s known Bishop, she has always been strong, due to her ability to open up. Gibbs knew that for some people, sharing their emotions was what empowered them. Bishop _had_ demons, but at least for now, she was okay. Maybe the other agents could take notes.  
But Tim? Tim had never opened up to Gibbs. After observing Bishop’s methods, Gibbs found himself more concerned about the fact that Tim appeared to be a rock. Obviously, his father had raised him to hide his emotions, believing that the secret to true masculinity and serving well in the Navy was simply not having feelings. Gibbs wished he could've talked some sense into the guy when he was still around.  
So his internal debate raged on, trying to figure out his agent as he’d done so many times in the past. As he peered at nothing and continued to think, Tim noticing him was what broke him out of his head.  
“Boss?” Tim was watching him. “...You okay?”  
“Fine.” He responded curtly. They couldn’t talk like this. Maybe Tim didn’t confess to him because Gibbs never advertised himself as someone to talk to. Gibbs and Tim had never properly connected, and it struck him that maybe, Tim saw too much of his father in Gibbs to feel comfortable confessing to him.  
“Are you okay?” Gibbs asked.  
“Yeah, I’m okay.” Gibbs had faced murderers, terrorists, and worst of all - _lawyers_. Yet, talking to his agent seemed to be more unsettling than being held at gunpoint by any criminal. But he didn’t back down. Especially not for his family. Gibbs approached and sat on the bench, next to Tim. He was lost in his thoughts, which were likely upsetting, judging by his blank expression yet sad eyes as he gazed into the water.  
“Tony will be fine. I won’t let him not be, Tim.” _Is that the right thing to say?_ Tim was unreadable.  
“Boss, I was there. He lost so much blood.”  
“They have blood at the hospital.” Tim’s upset expression remained.  
_Oh. That’s not what he meant._  
“If you need to talk…”  
“I’m fine.” Tim snapped. Gibbs watched him for another second, before standing and walking away, admitting defeat to himself. He left in search of another victim nurse to yell at for not giving them any information.

 

Tim let out a sigh once Gibbs left. It was no use talking to the man; he’d leave before he even tried to talk about his ‘feelings’. Not that he really wanted to anyway, because he wasn’t used to doing so. It was easier with girls, like Abby, because they didn’t particularly care about masculine image. Unfortunately, it did cause Tim to be treated like a cute, innocent puppy in Abby’s eyes, which was a little degrading. He could live with it.  
But he didn’t even really talk, not even with her. And he definitely wasn’t going to talk about Tony.  
Because when he thought about him, he imagined the blood again, the shocking contrast of white and red, and how it ran down the birch tree and down Tony’s arm. It was sticky and thick, and took a while to wash off his hands, and even then, it wasn’t fully off. Tim looked at his hands, with a slight red tint to them, and under his fingernails were flakes of dried blood. Something clutched tight at his chest and his throat, like he was being smothered, and he was knocked back with the overwhelming urge to cry. Forcing himself not to, out of fear of being seen by anyone, God forbid Gibbs, Tim just wrapped himself tighter into a ball. Tony was going to live, of course. But thinking about the recovery period, and the probable trauma of being shot, and Tony requiring physiotherapy, and having to watch his friend fidget violently in his chair all day because he couldn’t do field work made Tim feel sick.  
Also, he missed him. He missed the ridiculous, toothy grin that Tony shared with the nurse. He missed Tony’s jokes, and his teasing, and how if anyone else were in his place that Tony would be capable of cheering Tim up. And for some reason, he missed the presence of the man; his scent, his voice, and the pieces of him such as empty takeaway boxes and expensive jackets strewn about his desk.  
_God, it’s not like he died. Man up._ A shocking realization dawned on him that he was thinking how his father would. _Tony is badly injured, and I'm telling myself to man up for feeling upset? Wait, why am I making this about me?_ He felt angry at himself, and stayed on the park bench to silently suffer from an overwhelming amount of emotions that he’d kept bottled for a long time - as long as he could remember. It was as if this event had triggered a floodgate to open, and every instance of his grief, anxiousness and sadness that he’d kept at bay washed over him and he couldn’t breathe.  
Choking back tears, he couldn’t breathe.  
Frozen in place, he couldn’t breathe.  
_What the hell is this?_


	3. Chapter 3

“Sir, your agent should be out of surgery soon.”  
“When is soon?”  
“A few hours, most likely.”  
“That’s not soon.”  
“Considering how long he’s been in surgery, yes, that is soon.”  
“Why is it taking so long? Are you people not telling me something?”  
“There were some complications, but nothing serious. The bullet shattered on impact, meaning there were many tiny fragments to remove, sir. His scapula was severely fractured, luckily the bullet only grazed an artery.”  
“Why didn’t you people tell us this before?”  
“We weren’t entirely sure of the damage when he first arrived, sir. You left soon after he arrived. We didn’t have any information yet.”   
“Right.” That was obvious. His stubbornness and impatience hindered his thinking, occasionally. “Will he be okay?”  
“Recovery will be a long road, sir. There’s high possibility of infection, so he will need monitoring and antibiotics. But the surgery is going well, as well as it can go under these circumstances. Gunshot wounds to shoulders are severe injuries, sir.”  
“How long will he be out of field work?” Gibbs’ icy stare caused fidgeting from the nurse.   
“Well, his shoulder will need to be immobilized for around a month in a sling. But I would say, ten weeks without strenuous activity will be required. Even if it no longer hurts, the bone may not fully be healed.” The nurse warned. _Tony will go crazy,_ Gibbs thought.

 

Gibbs took another walk. It was dark out. Tony had been in surgery since 1600, and as it was the peak of summer, the sun was setting at around 2100 these days. Following the path he’d taken before, he wondered if Tim had gone home, or went back inside. Bishop, Palmer, Ducky and Abby had work to do on the case, and promised to come visit when Tony was out of surgery. Gibbs silently berated himself for not working on the case either, not helping out, but his gut was telling him to stay.   
As he rounded the corner, he knew why. His young agent was curled up on the same bench that Gibbs had found him sitting on before. This time, Tim lay on his side and was fast asleep. Gibbs approached and felt Tim’s hand. It was ice cold. Chances are, Tim hadn’t moved from his place watching the empty duck pond. He shook Tim awake.   
“Huh?” Tim mumbled sleepily. “Oh. Hi, boss.”   
“Why are you still out here? You should’ve gone inside. Or gone home.”   
“I can’t go home… But I don’t like hospitals.”   
“You’re freezing, Tim. Tony’s got a few hours left, but you should go inside, warm up.”   
“Did they tell you anything?” Tim dodged Gibbs’ advice. Gibbs acknowledged this but let it go, sliding into the spot next to Tim. He looked so… Young. In the moonlight, he appeared almost childlike. Gibbs brushed away thoughts of Ziva.   
“Tony’s scapula is severely fractured. The bullet shattered in his shoulder, so they had to remove the fragments. An artery was grazed, but none were ruptured.” Gibbs regurgitated the information the nurse had told him ten minutes prior.   
“Doesn’t that mean he could lose mobility of his arm?”   
“He won’t. Tony doesn’t do anything half-assed. He’ll do everything he can in physiotherapy, and then some.” Finally, Gibbs had managed to bring some light into Tim’s eyes.   
“But how long will he be out of field work?”  
“They told me ten weeks, to make sure the bone heals.” Gibbs paused. “I’m not going to let him lift anything, though.”  
“He’ll make me lift everything.” Tim commented, letting out a huff of laughter.   
“Tim, I need you to be there for him.” Tim opened his mouth, ready to say something, but Gibbs continued. “Tony needs to be engaged. Without field work, he’ll get irritable, and that’s not something the team needs whilst we’re catching the bastard who shot him. I need you to entertain him.”   
“Of course, boss. Do you want me to watch him, too?” Gibbs nodded.  
“Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid to prove he’s okay.” Tim knew what he meant. Tony, far too often, tried to brush things off and power on, which ended up getting him hurt more.   
“So he needs adult supervision.” Tim joked. Gibbs didn’t respond, but the corners of his mouth twitched. 

 

“Can we see him now?”   
“With all due respect, sir, please stop asking every ten seconds. I will tell you. Give us a few minutes.”  
Gibbs grunted and sat, in between Abby and Ducky. Tim sat by himself, in the corner, ‘reading’ a magazine. He attempted to look enthralled in… Motorcycles… But the pages hadn’t been turned once since he picked it up. Palmer and Ducky were deep in conversation, bantering indecipherable medical jargon back and forth. Bishop was sat across from him, one hand in a bag of popcorn and the other holding an open book about… Gibbs squinted to read the title, but the angle she held the book at prohibited it. Abby was staring at him.  
“Are you okay, Gibbs?”   
“Yeah, I’m fine, Abs. Are you?” In response, she leaned her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck. “He’s not allowed to be anything other than fine.” Gibbs noticed that Tim had put down the magazine and was instead staring blankly at the floor.   
“Okay, you can see him now, but he isn’t awake.” The nurse said, and the team stood, ready to pile inside. “Uh uh uh! Be quiet, and don’t shove in. File in _slowly_.” The group entered in single-file, Tim at the back of the pack, and surrounded Tony’s bed.   
“My poor baby.” Abby said, and Gibbs knew that she was holding back from wrapping her arms around Tony’s sleeping form with every fibre of her being. “Look at him, he looks so tired.”  
A blue shoulder sling was worn around his left forearm, prohibiting movement. He wore a white hospital gown, pristine and without a single speck of blood on it, meaning they patched him up well. Gibbs felt the urge to look, but he wouldn’t risk infecting the wound for a second. An IV drip was hooked up, containing the antibiotics the nurse had told him he’d require. Gibbs attempted to observe anything that wasn’t Tony’s face, or how tired and sick he looked, or his pale skin and chapped lips. Because he didn’t want to give himself any evidence that Tony wasn’t strong enough to work through this with flying colours.   
“Will you let us know when he wakes up? Mr. Palmer and I must continue to examine the body we found today.” Ducky asked, after a few minutes spent with Tony.   
“Oh, actually, I have to run through evidence, so I need to go, too.” Abby said sadly, not wanting to leave.  
“I need to work the case, boss.” Bishop said to Gibbs.   
“Well, go! They’ll let us know.”  
“You’re not staying, Jethro?” Ducky asked.  
“No. I have a criminal to catch.” Gibbs’ eyes darted to look at Tim, who still stood in Tony’s room, by his bed, watching Tony sadly. “But he will stay.”  
“Timothy?” Ducky’s eyebrows raised. “Has he been affected a bit... _Deeper_... Than the rest of us?” Ducky’s tone implied something, but Gibbs was unsure what.  
“I dunno, Duck. He was the one who found Tony, and had to witness all the blood loss.” The look on Ducky’s face displayed slight confusion, like his question hadn’t been answered. Ducky and the others left, and Gibbs went to Tim to tell him they were going.  
“You’re leaving? Wait, boss, do you need me to help in the case?”  
“No, Tim. Tony needs you more than we do.” Gibbs said, and left.


	4. Chapter 4

A horrific pain in his left shoulder was all he could feel. _Why can’t I wake up?_  
“Tony?”   
Someone was talking to him, saying something, but it was so dark. He wanted to open his eyes, but they wouldn’t cooperate. _Come on, come on! Why does this hurt so much?_  
“Tony! Hey, man, can you hear me?”  
 _Tim, yes I can hear you! Wake up, please! I want to see Tim!_  
There was a shaking on his right shoulder, and he managed to crack his eyes open. His gaze slowly met Tim’s, who looked relieved.   
“Tony, can you hear me?”   
“Mmh…” Tony responded, too exhausted to say anything else. He couldn’t even nod. _Why am I so weak? God, it hurts so much! What is that?!_  
Tim noticed Tony beginning to panic and stress over how he couldn’t really move.  
“Hey, relax, you’ve just been in surgery. You’re okay. Everyone came to visit, but you were still asleep. I’m staying with you.” Tony’s eyes asked questions. “Gibbs wants me to monitor you.” Tim explained. Tony just rolled his eyes, as if to say that he didn’t need monitoring and that he wasn’t five, to which Tim would respond, ‘that’s debatable’.   
Tony cleared his throat and attempted to speak again, where he had much better luck. “Tim…” He rasped. “Uhh… What happened?”   
“You were shot.” Tim was relieved to hear his voice again, he’d missed it so much. “In the shoulder. We don’t know who did it, or why. But it’s taken you out of field duty for about ten weeks. There’ll be a lot of physio. And uh… No heavy lifting for a while.” Tony’s eyes widened at the field duty part.  
“What?!” He attempted to move into a sitting position and winced. Tim fussed over him.  
“Hey, hey, don’t sit up. Are you okay?”   
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Tony grunted. “But ten weeks?!”   
“It fractured your shoulder blade.” Tim added. Tony let out a loud whine, and other various noises of frustration. Tim sniggered.  
“Don’t laugh at my misery, Timmy!” Tony whined, and threw his good arm over his eyes. “How will I live? I’m going to die of boredom!”  
“Gibbs assigned me the task of making sure that doesn’t happen for the next ten weeks.”  
“Stop saying ten weeks, it makes it sound longer!” Tony paused. “And what, he assigned you the task of entertaining me?” He laughed hysterically. “Oh, we’re gonna… We’re gonna watch Doctor Who for the next ten weeks. That’s gonna speed up my death by boredom, probie.” Tim snorted, mildly offended but far more glad Tony was okay enough to even retort. Tony stopped laughing as he noticed that Tim hadn’t responded.  
“You okay?” He asked, genuinely concerned.   
“ _Am I okay?_ Does it matter? You got shot.” Tim asked, hating the idea that the one who’d been shot was fussing over him.   
“Yeah but that doesn’t invalidate how you’re feeling.” Tony responded seriously. “I don’t really remember what happened, but you were the one who found me, right? It’s not really a pretty sight for young probies.” He said, shaking his head slowly.  
“I’m not even a probie anymore. It’s been like, seven years.” Tim grumbled. Tony looked significantly happier that Tim was reacting to his teasing.   
“You’ll always be my probalicious. I don’t care if it’s been seven hundred years.” Tony visibly relaxed and tucked his good arm behind his head.   
“Does it hurt?” Tim asked after a short silence.   
“Yeah, it hurts a lot. Like, wow.” As he said it, another sharp twang of pain ripped through him, which was worse than all the other twangs that he’d managed to avoid reacting to, and he let out a quiet cry.   
“Tony?” Tim asked, immediately fussing over him again. _Why’s he doing that? I’m fine!_  
“Leave off, man. It’s okay. Just… A bad twinge.” Tim still looked upset. “No offense, but, why do you care so much?”   
“Uh, because we’ve been friends for like, ten years? Are you saying you wouldn’t act like this if it was me?” Tim looked visibly hurt.  
“No, no, that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry for saying it, I-I would. Of course.” Tony said, backpedaling. “I’m just not really used to being fussed over.” Tim nodded in understanding.   
“If you want me to leave you alone, it’s fi-”  
“No! I mean, no, you’re fine. Don’t leave, I know it’s already gonna be boring when I have no company.”   
“I guess you’re stuck with Doctor Who.” He teased, and Tony whined, pretending to be annoyed but secretly, he’d much rather watch aliens and weird sci-fi than stare out a hospital window.


	5. Chapter 5

Tim spent a few hours at work, but Gibbs knew his mind wasn’t there when he was working. Gibbs wasn’t entirely sure why the man was always concerned for Tony, but he wasn’t going to interfere. Tim was unreadable, usually, but Gibbs could always see the anxiousness evident on the young agent’s face. After the knowledge that Tony had woken, everyone had gone and spent some time with him. Nobody could stay long, as the case had to be solved and they needed all the Gibblets helping.   
There were next to no samples to collect from the crime scene where Tony was shot. They’d found a surprisingly clean body with two gunshot wounds, obviously it had been recently dumped, and the only other evidence was the bullet that had been shot at Tony. They’d figured out that it was a semi-automatic pistol, specifically, a Glock 20 using a 10mm round, one of the most lethal handguns.   
Glock 20’s had been used by the FBI. Their kick is powerful, even leading to broken wrists. Gibbs’ gut told him that the shooter was likely strong, able to control the kick using their own physical power, otherwise they wouldn’t have chosen the weapon. As the shot was far enough away from Tony, and yet still accurate on the first shot since no other slugs were found, Gibbs assumed the shooter knew what they were doing. And it made him sick.  
Shots to the shoulder are usually intended to kill. Shooters that weren’t intending to horribly maim or murder someone would not shoot in places with large arteries, such as the shoulder, or with organs, like the torso or head. If that was a warning shot, it would’ve at most been in the shin. No, somebody wanted Tony injured, and badly.   
Gibbs’ eyes narrowed, thinking about what information Ducky and Abby had fed him. The body was confirmed to be Petty Officer Jacob Hunt, and he was shot in the neck and the bowel. Cause of death was blood loss, as the bullet had severed his carotid artery. It was confirmed that the gun and bullets used matched what had been used to injure Tony.  
What gave them hope was the gunshot residue beneath Jacob Hunt’s fingernails. The shooter had obviously hastily attempted to clean it all off, but for a body that was so clean, he didn’t do a particularly good job with the fingernails. Still, it wasn’t much to go on.  
If only they had swept the crime scene, checked to see if that bastard was still around. Jacob Hunt had an estimated time of death of twelve hours ago, so they had no idea he hadn’t fled. Tony had decided to break off from the crime scene and search the forest, alone! Next time Gibbs saw Tony, he’d be getting a headslap.   
It hit him. How could they have been so ignorant? The shooter obviously wanted Tony to stay away from the forest. And although they’d searched and found no sign of the shooter, what if he was trying to protect something? Or keep it hidden? A crime scene, perhaps? It would make sense, due to the gunshot residue, if the shooter was trying to hide that he’d been shot himself and had bled somewhere in the forest.  
Gibbs stood and barked out an order for Bishop to get the van running, that they were returning to the crime scene to see if the shooter was trying to hide something.  
“But boss, what about me?” Tim asked as he stood. Gibbs approached.  
“I know your head hasn’t been here all day. You won’t be efficient in the field. Go see Tony, Tim.” Without another word, Tim grabbed items from Tony’s desk - cell-phone, jacket, backpack, and several other things - before running to the closing doors. 

 

“Boss, we’ve been looking for hours, and there doesn’t seem to be anything?” Bishop asked, trekking towards Gibbs.  
“We’ve barely scratched the surface, Bishop. We need to be looking for bloodstains, slugs, anything. Jacob Hunt may have been killed in this forest, then dumped far from the evidence. We need to remember that he had gunshot residue under his nails, meaning he’d shot back, possibly injuring the shooter.” Gibbs’ eyes narrowed as Bishop stood, hesitating. “What?”  
“Well, if McGee could help us, it would be a lot faster…” She trailed off at Gibbs’ expression, one which said, _I know what I’m doing._  
After returning to their work, Gibbs assumed that the subject of Tim not being there was dropped and forgotten by Bishop. However, it was brought up yet again, as they were closely inspecting the foliage for blood spatter.  
“Boss… Why can’t Tim be here?”   
“He’s with Tony.”  
“But does he have to be?” She asked, which mildly frustrated Gibbs. “I mean, I know Tony needs someone right now, but-”  
“You just answered your own question.”  
“But why does it have to be Tim? He’s so vital. Couldn’t it have been, say… Palmer?”  
“Damn it, Bishop.” Gibbs said, finally stopping what he was going to growl at her. “Nobody on our team is more useful than anyone else. Palmer is necessary, so do not compare our team members. And also, Tim would not be able to do any work out here, anyway. His mind is not at work right now, it’s at the hospital. Stop questioning my judgement.”  
“I-I’m sorry boss, I wasn’t questioning…” She trailed off as Gibbs visibly ignored her. She sighed and got back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if I got anything wrong in this chapter. I know nothing about guns, nor do I really care for them. Thanks Internet!


	6. Chapter 6

Tony was asleep when Tim arrived, so he crept in, holding some of Tony’s belongings that he’d picked up, along with a plastic bag full of takeaways. The scent appeared to rouse Tony, he sniffed and his eyes scanned the room.  
“What is that delicious smell?” Tony asked quickly, so quickly that he barely could get all the words out. Tim laughed.  
“Fast food. I thought you’d like something rather than hospital sandwiches.”  
“Oh, oh my God. Thank you, McGoo. You have saved me.” Tim sat in the chair next to Tony, placing the items on the ground and reaching into the takeout bag.  
“I got you chips and two cheeseburgers.”  
“Two? You know me so well.” Tony devoured his food, causing Tim to laugh again. He pulled out a salad. Tony paused whilst still chewing to gaze at the healthy meal.  
“A mrrmaldd?” Tony asked, his mouth full, before he swallowed and tried to ask again. “A salad?”  
“Yeah. You know I’m on a diet.”  
“That’s so depressing.” Tony teased, before continuing to eat his cheeseburger. Tim looked sadly at his salad, and grasped for Tony’s other burger. “Hey!” Tony exclaimed, slapping Tim’s hand. “You’re on a diet!”  
“But I want it!” Tim whined, grabbing for it again and this time succeeding. Tony tried to make another grab for it, but ended up aggravating his shoulder and let out a wail. Tim froze.  
“Tony, shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to- Are you okay? I’m-” Tim stood, nearly spilling his salad, and in concern checked Tony over.  
“H-Hey, hey, calm down.” A slight pink tint occupied Tony’s cheeks as he attempted to swat Tim away. “Really, it’s fine, you don’t need to apologise. It doesn’t hurt. You can have my cheeseburger.” Tim sat, still looking worried, and Tony flashed his famous grin at him. “Ruin your diet, probie. Do it.”  
“I’m not that hungry.” Tim responded glumly, and passed the burger back.  
“Tim, I’m not fragile. My arm isn’t going to fall off if I aggravate it. You need to relax, okay? Seriously, if there’s an actual problem, you’ll know, and the doctors will help me.”  
“I’m sorry, I can’t help it. It’s just… It’s a lot, you know?”  
“I know. You didn’t deserve to see it. I’m sorry you had to witness that.”  
“You’re the one that got shot, why are you apologising to me?”  
“Like I said, it shouldn’t invalidate your feelings. You’re still allowed to get upset. I just want you to know that I’m fine, it’s no big deal if it starts to hurt.”  
“Okay…”  
“Now, ruin your diet.” Tony chucked the burger into Tim’s lap.  
“But…”  
“Eat that cheeseburger before I do, probie.” Tony pretended to sound threatening, but Tony was the least threatening person on the Earth.  
“Ooh, I’m scared.” Tim unwrapped the cheeseburger and took a bite. Tony raised his eyebrows and smirked.

 

Tim was there most times Tony was awake, aside from the odd occasion that Tim wasn’t there and he was alone in his room and for some reason it would be unsettling. It had been a week or so, and the hospital was now releasing Tony… Into the care of McGee. _The probie!? The nerve of this hospital._  
“I do not require adult supervision!” Tony complained, as soon as the doctor checking him over had left.  
“Yes you do, you’re mentally a six year old.”  
“Am not!”  
“Are too!” Tony pouted and crossed his arms. “Oh look, you’re proving my point.”  
“You’re on thin ice, probster!”  
“Ooh, I’m terrified. Look, I’m shaking.”  
“When I get out of this damn sling I’m gonna double headslap you! Both hands, hah! How do you like that!”  
“Mhmm, you get right on that.” Tim retorted, and Tony let out an indignant huff. “Now, you have to get changed. Uhmm… Do you need… Help?”  
“Woah! Buy me a drink first, McFeelUp! I am capable on my own.”  
“Alright, sorry for asking.” Tim watched Tony attempt to get out of bed. He let out a whine when he couldn’t. “Oh my God, here.” Tim grabbed Tony by the waist and pulled him up. Tony let out a gasp, and ended up standing about an inch from Tim. They both froze.  
“Sorry.” Tim said.  
“There are easier ways to get a kiss from me, probie.” Tony patted Tim’s shoulder, pushing past. “You could’ve just asked.” He called as he entered the bathroom to get changed. Tim waited outside the door incase Tony needed help. _Whoever is up there in the sky, please make sure that Tony doesn’t need help,_ Tim thought. There was a thud and a loud yelp.  
“Tony? Is everything okay?” Tim asked.  
“U-Uh, yeah… Fine…” Tony responded weakly.  
“Do you need help?” A long pause followed. “Tony, your dignity doesn’t matter. If you need help, you’d be stupid not to ask.”  
“In that case… Um…” Tim pushed in, and was greeted by the shocking sight of Tony sprawled on the floor, only wearing boxer briefs which were weirdly tight. Tim had never seen Tony go red from embarrassment until now.  
“Wow.” Tim snorted. Though, his eyes were drawn to the thick bandages covering Tony’s shoulder.  
“Don’t laugh at me! Those gowns are misleadingly easy to remove! This sling makes it so hard to get normal clothing on!”  
“You take it off, idiot! Come here.” Tim dropped to his knees in front of Tony, who was still on the floor. “Where’s your clothing?”  
“In the bag.” Tony said weakly. Tim rummaged through the bag, attempting to find a shirt.  
“Tony, you can’t wear t-shirts, it’ll be too hard to get on. You need a shirt that opens from the front.”  
“Well how was I supposed to know? I didn’t even ask for these clothes, they just appeared!”  
“Look, you can wear mine.” As he said this, Tim undid a button on his shirt.  
“What?! First of all, you’re so much smaller than me, it’s going to rip!”  
“Stop whining, I’m not that much smaller. It might be a bit tight, that’s all.” Tim grunted, slipping his shirt off, and looked up to see Tony staring at his torso. Tim felt self-conscious. “Um… Tony?”  
“Oh, sorry.” Tony said, looking up at Tim with wide-eyes. “It’s just that, you’re like… More muscular than I remember.” Tony winced, he felt weird complimenting people and Tim knew it.  
“Not so bad yourself. Now, put it on.” Tony’s jaw dropped at the response, but he grabbed the shirt and looked helplessly at Tim.  
“How do I…?” Tim undid the sling and slipped it off. Tony felt himself go a little red at the amount of tenderness the probie was treating him with. He took hold of Tony’s arm, and slowly straightened it, pulling the sleeve of his shirt over it. Tim buttoned the shirt.  
“You don’t have to do that.” Tony said, trying to pull away.  
“It’s just faster if I do it.” Tim responded as he picked up the sling, and put it back on Tony. He was still shirtless, so he took the t-shirt Tony was going to wear and slipped it on. “Do you need help with your pants?” Okay, now Tony was red.  
“Jesus, I don’t know, doesn’t that seem a bit... Intimate?”  
“Wow, Tony, relax. It’s not a big deal if you don’t make it one. And you’re gonna have to get used to it, for a while. But does it hurt your shoulder when you bend over? Because I’m gonna have to help you if it does.” There was a pause, before Tony nodded. Tony swallowed as Tim turned and grabbed his pants, before he froze. “How did you get your underwear on?” Tony looked downcast.  
“I dunno…”  
“Ew, Jesus, Tony! Have you been wearing those all week?”  
“They never told me how to change them!” Tony explained desperately. “But I can do it, seriously, I don’t want you to-”  
“Tony, that’s unhygienic.”  
“Well I haven’t showered either, that’s unhygienic too, but it’s not my fault!”  
“Look, I don’t wanna have to do this either, but I’m the only one that can.”  
“I-” Tony let out a desperate noise and tried to search for escape routes. “Can’t I just do it, like, when I get home?”  
“Changing the environment won’t make this any easier. But sure, if you want to delay it, go ahead. It’s gonna happen, though.”  
“I feel so pathetic, okay? Can’t I even have the decency to change my own underwear?!”  
“I’m sorry, I promise it’ll get easier. But it’s not a good idea for you to be bending over because it involves your shoulder. Once it heals more, I promise it’ll be fine. We won’t do it now, okay? We can wait until you’re at home.” Tim pulled a pair of shorts out of the bag, and crawled over. “Here, put your legs through.”  
Tony did _not_ blush when Tim buttoned the front of the shorts and did up the zipper. DiNozzos _never_ blush.  
Tim finished dressing him, and Tony had honestly never felt more pathetic.  
“I’m sorry.” Tim said again. “I know this sucks.” Tony exhaled in response.


	7. Chapter 7

After departing from the hospital, Tim drove Tony home.   
And apparently, home meant Tim’s home, and not Tony’s home.  
“The hell, McGoo? Why are we at your apartment?”   
“Because I need to be watching you, and it means that after work, I only have to make one trip.”  
“What about my stuff?”  
“I’ll get it tomorrow. Come on, get out.” Tony reluctantly exited the car, following Tim into the apartment complex.  
“You can sleep in the guest room.” Tim supplied, juggling the items he was holding in an attempt to free up a hand to unlock the door.   
“Here, let me-”  
“No, I’m fine.”  
“Probie, I still have a hand free, _and_ it’s my right hand!” Tony complained, but Tim had already unlocked the door. Tony sighed and shut the door behind them, watching Tim bumble into the kitchen and drop a bunch of the stuff he was carrying onto the counter. Tony, for the thousandth time, tugged at the tight shirt he was wearing in an attempt to make it bigger.   
“You need to shower.” Tim said as he turned around to face Tony.   
“I can do it on my own, right?”  
“For the most part, yes, but I’ll have to wash your good arm. And anywhere else you can’t… Reach.” Tony let out a snort.   
“I’m sure I can reach fine.”  
“Okay. Here, come to the shower.”  
“Wait a second. If I stand up, will I be able to slide my underwear off?”   
“Possibly. They might be too tight to slide off without assistance, though.”  
“Oh.”   
Tony followed Tim into the bathroom. Tim was holding a bag with what he’d said was what the hospital had given him to protect the wound from the water. Tim dropped the bag and got to work removing the sling and unbuttoning Tony’s shirt and slipping it off.   
“Tony, I’m going to remove the dressings, okay? I need to replace it with the waterproof ones.”  
“Okay.” Tim removed the dressing covering the gunshot, unsure what he was going to see.   
“Oh, fuck.” Tim whispered in shock. The stitching was… There was a lot more of it than he’d expected. It looked like he’d been butchered and sewn shoddily back together.  
“What’s wrong?” Tony had already seen the wound prior.  
“It’s just… I didn’t expect that. It’s still so raw looking.”  
“That’s because it hasn’t healed yet.”   
“Sorry.” Tim said, when he realized it was invasive to stare. He envisioned what it looked like when it was open, and blood was gushing out, and-  
“Tim? Hey, Tim, are you alright, man?”   
How the blood ran down his best friend’s arm. _There was so much blood. I could’ve lost him. I could’ve fucking lost him. I could’ve-_  
“Tim? Why are you crying? What’s- What happened?”  
 _What if he’d died?_ What the hell would he do? It had only just come to him now that Tony could’ve easily died.   
He felt a sense of warmth around his body, but he wasn’t sure what it was, because his eyes were closed and he was gasping for air.   
“Tim, hey, is this about… About what you saw?” Tim opened his eyes. They’d embraced. It wasn’t particularly unpleasant. He was crying, in front of another man, even worse that it was Tony, and that was a bit unpleasant.  
“Shit, sorry.” Tim pulled away and turned around.   
“No, it’s okay…” Tony trailed off, feeling lost for words. He felt so, so fucking guilty for being shot, and having Tim see him that way. He knew this was coming, he knew that somehow, it’d fucked Tim up. And he’d never felt worse about himself than he had in that moment. “I’m so sorry, I-”  
“I could’ve lost you. I don’t know what I’d do if I-” Tim cried again.  
“Come on, it’s okay. I’m here… Not dead.” Tony finally understood why Tim was desperate to help him, and constantly fussed over him. Because he could’ve died. Tim didn’t want to leave him after that, didn’t want him to hurt himself again. “Look… Let’s just… I need to shower.”  
“Oh, yeah, right.” Tim got back to work applying the waterproof dressings. Once he was done, he removed Tony’s shorts, trying to be as non-invasive as possible when it came to the zipper. “Now, uh, try to get your underwear off. If it works, just get into the shower, let your bad arm hang loose, and wash wherever you can. If they don’t come off, well… I’ll have to help.” Tim exited, shutting the door and waiting outside it.   
Tony didn’t want to bend over, because it aggravated his shoulder, and he couldn’t reach past his thighs without having to bend. He prayed that his underwear were loose enough to slip off, and he slid them down his thighs. He swallowed when he could not push them any further, and did several awkward dances to try to get them past the knees. To his horror, he could not get them off without assistance.  
 _Oh, God. I don’t want him seeing my… Junk._ Tony covered his crotch with his good hand.  
“Um.” Tony said awkwardly.  
“Oh, God. Is it not working?” Tim said, from the other side of the door.  
“I’m sorry, I’ve tried everything, man. I did the chicken dance trying to get this shit off.”   
“Can I come in?”  
“Y-Yeah.”   
Tim pushed the door open, trying hard not to look near Tony’s crotch. They avoided eye contact, and Tim got to his knees in front of him. “Um…”  
“Relax, I’m not going to give you a BJ.” Tony giggled nervously, looking to his right and hoping this awkward healing phase would be over soon. Tim pulled Tony’s underwear off, throwing them into the corner. “Alright, you good now?”  
“Yeah, hah, thanks, man.” Tony responded, almost shyly, and Tim smiled sympathetically at him.  
“I know this is awkward, but I’m your friend, okay? You don’t need to feel uncomfortable.”  
“Right.” Tony watched as Tim turned and left, the door clicking behind him. Tim went and sat in the lounge, knowing that if Tony called out, he’d be able to hear. Flicking the channels, he settled down to watch an episode of Doctor Who.  
Tony stepped into the shower, and sighed at the relaxing feeling of the water thrumming against him. It made him nervous to think about the negative impact this whole situation had on Tim, and he constantly found himself more worried about the guy’s sanity than his own injury. _Timmy really is the best friend a guy could have,_ Tony thought gratefully as he conditioned his hair.


	8. Chapter 8

Not too long after, the two had practically fully adapted to living together, there was a terrifyingly quick shift of the comfort they felt. The next night, they were sat on the couch together eating spaghetti, some TV show humming in the background.  
“So what do you know about the guy that shot me?” Tony asked casually, and Tim nearly choked.  
“Um, not much, unfortunately. It was the same guy that murdered Petty Officer Jacob Hunt. Gibbs told me he was probably shot by Hunt, and was hiding in the forest whilst we were investigating the crime scene. Gibbs thinks he shot you because he was trying to protect himself, he didn’t want us getting close.”  
“So he was too injured to run away?”  
“He could’ve been observing us. Or, maybe he just hates cops and didn’t want to be caught.”  
“It’s totally all three.”  
“All I know is that when we catch him, I want to be the one doing the interrogation.” Tony stopped chewing and looked over to Tim, whose eyes bore holes into the floor, an anger he’d had yet to see in the other man was burning in his eyes. Worry shot through Tony when he saw Tim’s knuckles were white from clenching his fist so hard. Tony placed his meal on the coffee table in front of them.  
“Hey, man, I’m sure this guy wasn’t out to get me specifically. Wrong place, wrong time, you know?”  
“He was aiming for your shoulder. He was trying to kill you. How are you not angry at him?”  
“Of course I’m angry at him. He put me out of field work for ten weeks!” Tony grew serious as he faced Tim. “But what makes me furious is that he hurt you, too. That’s the worst part of all of this.” Tim was taken aback at the response. “I don’t want you tearing him to shreds, though, Timmy. That’ll just make it worse.”  
“Tony…”  
“I know you want closure, you want to make sense of this, but there really isn’t any to be found. He’s a murderer who shot me because he didn’t want to get caught. That’s all it is, okay?”  
“...Yeah. You’re right.” Tim finally admit defeat after a long pause. Tony was scrutinising him inquisitively, and Tim squirmed, looking away.  
“Change the channel, I don’t want to watch this stupid game show! Ooh, can you put on TBS? I think Conan’s on!” Tim chuckled lightheartedly as he flipped the channels over.

 

Two hours later in the AM, some weird repetitive advertisements lit up the TV in the otherwise dark room. Tony had fallen asleep not too long ago due to the stronger pain meds kicking in, and was snoring, leaning heavily onto Tim’s shoulder. Tim forced himself not to move, not wanting to wake Tony up. They did have to get to bed soon.  
“Tony?” Tony’s breathing changed as he slowly roused. He looked up at Tim with bleary eyes. “Hey, we should get to bed, it’s 1AM.”  
“What happened to staying up late, because we’re adults?” Tony mumbled against Tim, who huffed in humor and moved to sit up. Tony clung to the fabric of Tim’s shirt, being pulled along with him.  
“Come on. Stand up.” Tony whined in protest, standing with Tim, blinking tiredly as he followed Tim down the hall. “Come on, I’ll help you get undressed.”  
“Mmhh…” Was Tony’s response, he’d gotten used to being dressed by Tim, and the awkwardness had quickly dissipated. The two entered the guest room together, and Tim took Tony’s sling off, before unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it off his shoulders. Tony blinked innocently at Tim, his expression sleepy, drugged up and blank, and Tim smiled warmly in response. After pulling his sweatpants off, Tony sat on the bed with a thump. Tim put Tony’s sling back on, before maneuvering so he lay on his back under the sheets, and placed a pillow beneath his sling.  
“Do you need anything else?” Tim asked. Tony blinked up at him, a vacant look on his face.  
“Can I have chocolate?” He asked hopefully, eyes gleaming.  
“No, not at this hour.” Tim chuckled. Tony’s hopeful look still remained.  
“Can you stay?” This caused Tim’s cheerful expression to morph into a puzzled look.  
“Is something wrong?” _He was fine getting to sleep alone last night,_ Tim worried to himself. _Though, yesterday, his meds were not as strong as tonight's. He’s just asking because he’s out of it._  
“I had a bad dream last night.” Tony mumbled, looking into Tim’s eyes, fear flashing in them. _Oh._ Tim softened, and he patted Tony on the neck, his hand sort of lingering on the hot flesh.  
“Do you want me to stay all night, or until you fall asleep?”  
“I don’t want to wake up alone again…” Guilt pierced through Tim.  
“I… I’ll go get changed and come back, okay?”  
“Okay.” Tim left the room in a haze of upset, angry at himself that he wasn’t there for Tony when he’d awoken from his bad dream, most likely about the shooting. Tim slipped off his jacket, unbuttoning his shirt, and replaced his jeans with some pajama bottoms. Hastily he returned, finding Tony curled up against the pillow under his arm, half asleep. Tim came around behind him, and slipped under the sheets. Tony flopped onto his back and looked at him, sighing in content. “You okay now?”  
“Yeah.” Soon after, they both fell asleep. 

 

Tim awoke to mumbling and the mattress dipping beneath him. His eyes shot open to see Tony writhing in his sleep, muttering about something unintelligible. Tears were streaked down his cheeks.  
“Oh, God, Tony…” Tim immediately took to shaking his arm, and Tony jumped, awake and choking back tears. His breath came in short, whimpered huffs, and he looked up at Tim in terror. “Hey, it’s just me, don’t worry, you’re okay!”  
“Tim, fuck, Tim…” Tony grabbed the divot between Tim’s neck and shoulder, pulling him closer, desperate to know that he was real and all was okay now. “I-I was back there.”  
“I know, shh, it’s okay, you’re safe now.” Tim reassured, hovering over Tony with a deep concern in his eyes, one hand on Tony’s cheek and the other digging tightly into the mattress. “Hey, hey…” He said as Tony attempted to stop crying, and Tim, cautious not to bother Tony’s shoulder, sat him up and pulled him into an embrace. Their flesh was hot against each other’s as Tony cried, shaking against Tim, his chin in Tim’s shoulder as he trembled. “Oh, sweetheart, everything’s okay, you’re safe.” Tim’s heart wrenched for the other man, still having a panic attack, clinging desperately to Tim’s naked back.  
“It hurts…” Tony said as he pulled away, and Tim rushed to grab Tony’s pain medication and a glass of water.  
“Hey, here, take these.” Tony swallowed the pills, and Tim fed him the water. Tony spluttered, and Tim slapped his back, rubbing as Tony settled. “Did they go down?”  
“Yeah, th-thanks, Tim…” They held each other's gaze for a second, both mildly terrified. “I love you, man.” Tony said softly, and Tim gazed at him in the darkness, still rubbing Tony’s back reassuringly.  
“I love you too, Tony.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Conan okay leave me alone


	9. Chapter 9

“Grab your gear! Abby managed to identify the shooter through the blood we found in the forest.”  
“Who was it, boss?” Bishop asked as McGee’s head shot up from his desk, his eyes wild.  
“Samuel Conway, a wanna-be FBI agent, experienced due to his illegal hunting and practice in gun ranges.” Gibbs fed Bishop and McGee as they followed him to the elevator.  
“Wait, Hunt’s best friend? Why would he murder Samuel?”  
“Abby searched through their messages sent to one another. They’re not best friends, they’re ex-boyfriends.” Gibbs huffed out.  
“Well, we’ve got our motive.” Bishop said as the elevator doors slid closed.

 

They arrived on the scene in the NCIS van, at Samuel’s home address, a shack not too far from the forest.  
“Take the back, Tim. Bishop, in front with me.” Gibbs uttered. Tim jumped into action, keeping low as he drew his gun, sidestepping silently to the back of the house. Gibbs’ eyes searched the windows, seemingly nobody was inside. He signaled to Bishop to stay behind him as they slowly approached the porch, their footsteps light and near silent, even on the gravel path. Reaching the front door, he took a deep breath, and banged on the wood with his fist.  
“NCIS! Open up, Conway!” He heard a sudden, panicked shuffling from inside, heading towards the back door. Gibbs kicked the door open and scanned the living room, seeing Samuel taking off through the hall with a gun, likely the original murder weapon. “McGee!” He yelled in warning, sliding around the corner and taking off after Samuel, hearing Bishop’s footsteps heavy behind him. Samuel banged out the back door, and Gibbs’ ears picked up a faint scuffle. At the sound of gunshots, his blood ran cold, a burst of adrenaline ran through him as he flung himself out the back door, gun cocked and held up, ready to defend. Immediately he caught sight of Tim on the ground, his gun pointed at Samuel, his eye bruised and blood seeping through the sleeve of his torn business shirt. Gibbs looked to Samuel, who lay still on the ground, gore pooling beneath him and running across the small sharp stones on the path. Two holes were ripped through him, one in his thigh and the other in his side. Gibbs dropped his arms, heaving a sigh of relief at the sight of Samuel disabled. Bishop rushed to Tim and sat him up.  
“Tim!” Gibbs called as he approached his field agent. “Are you okay?”  
“Yeah, boss. Just a scrape.” Tim flashed his arm with the sleeve now pulled up, a fairly deep gash in his forearm, likely caused by the harsh gravel that he’d fallen on.  
“A little more than a scrape, Tim.” Gibbs responded, and Tim looked weakly up at him. “Good work.” He added as a rare compliment, dialing 911.  
Samuel Conway was barely alive as he was loaded into the ambulance and taken away with haste. One of the paramedics had cleaned and dressed Tim’s arm, luckily he hadn’t required stitches, and Tim had wandered over to a rock and sat in thought. Several agents were analyzing the scene. Gibbs strode towards him.  
“Hey, Tim. Go home.”  
“In a bit, boss. I’m just watching.” Gibbs looked Tim up and down.  
“How is Tony doing?”  
“Oh, he’s getting better with each day. I’m sure he’ll be ready for field work in no time.”  
“That’s good to hear. How are you holding up?”  
“Me? Well, uh, I’m fine. Just a scrape, I told you. They patched me up.”  
“That’s not what I meant, Tim. Are you okay, after what happened to Tony?”  
“Oh, um.” Tim blushed and looked away. “Yeah, everything’s fine.” Gibbs just stared at him, and Tim knew he wouldn’t take that for an answer. “I guess it was just really hard to see him like that, and I can’t really stop picturing it. He could’ve died.”  
“I know.” There was a pause where Tim looked conflicted.  
“He got shot, and I keep making it about me…” Tim self-deprecated under his breath.  
“Your feelings are important, too.” Tim was unsure how to respond, so he simply looked past Gibbs and focused on the agents searching Conway’s home. “Hey, look at me. You need to stop hiding your feelings, Tim. That only makes things worse. Tell Tony how you feel.”  
“Tell him… How I feel? What do you mean?” Gibbs stared at him yet again, and Tim squirmed under his scrutiny, this time unsure of what he wanted him to respond with. It had clicked in Gibbs not too long ago that the reason Tim was so concerned about Tony was that he was, in some ways, in love with him, which was what Ducky had been referencing. It surprised Gibbs how long it took himself to catch on, but once he did, Tim had suddenly become far easier to read. Gibbs was interested that Tim still apparently didn’t know yet, and wasn’t sure whether he should suggest the idea to him or leave it for him to figure out. After a few seconds of watching Tim with a hawk-stare, he decided that Tim had been bottling his feelings up for far too long, and perhaps he just needed a push in the right direction.  
“That you love him.” Gibbs said in a scarily Gibbs-like tone, which was a matter-of-fact and lacking emotion type of tone. This startled Tim, causing him to jump,his jaw hitting the ground, and he spluttered like a fish out of water.  
“I-I don’t, um, I’m not, I mean, um...” Gibbs watched Tim’s internal debate with intrigue. “I-I’m not gay--”  
“Tim.” Gibbs cut Tim off. “Just talk to him.” With that, Gibbs turned and stalked away, and Tim was left staring in shock after him, mind completely blank, aside from the word ‘what?’ repeating itself a thousand times over.

 

Tim arrived home to see Tony in the living room, flipping through a magazine. He looked up at Tim with bright eyes when he entered.  
“Hey man, you’re home late.” Tony paused, noticing Tim’s bruised eye and wrapped up arm. “Timmy? What happened?”  
“We caught the bastard.” Tim responded happily. Tony jumped up, rushing over to Tim.  
“Really? What happened? Who was it?”  
“Samuel Conway, Hunt’s ex-boyfriend. We caught him in his house, he rushed out the back. We had a scuffle, I shot him twice. He’s in hospital right now.” Tony’s eyes shone with admiration, and he felt Tony wrap an arm tightly around him. Tim laughed at the unexpected action. After a few seconds, Tony stepped back.  
“Thank you for not killing him! I’m proud of my probie, you caught the bad guy all on your own!”  
“Well,” Tim flushed, rubbing his neck in embarrassment. “It wasn’t really me, Abby and Gibbs did most of the work. I just happened to be out the back.”  
“But you’re a total ninja, McGoo! I bet he was all beat up, I bet he had two black eyes! Muahaha!”  
“Sure, Tony.” Tim laughed again. Tony’s eyes were drawn to Tim’s bandaged arm, a few flecks of blood seeping through the white.  
“Hey, you’re bleeding.” Tony said, the happiness mostly dropping from his tone.  
“Oh, it’s nothing, really. Just cut myself on a rock as I landed.”  
“He pushed you over? That bastard!” Tony exclaimed, holding Tim’s wrist and inspecting the bandages closer. Tim felt a minuscule jolt of electricity run through him, and was reminded of his conversation with Gibbs earlier.  
“Um, Gibbs said something weird to me today.” Tony looked up, eyes unfocused.  
“Oh?”  
“Yeah, he told me I should stop bottling up my feelings.”  
“Well, you should, Tim.”  
“Do I really do it all the time?”  
“Uh, yeah. You’re like an impenetrable fortress, I can never get through to you, man! Hey, wanna order pizza?” Tony asked as he approached the phone. Tim watched him helplessly.  
“He told me I should talk to you about my feelings, isn’t that weird?” Tony looked up at him, expression turning calculating and serious.  
“That is a little weird. Do you know why he said that?”  
“...No…” Tim lied. Tony watched him for a few seconds, knowing that Tim was blatantly lying, but decided not to push it just yet.  
“...Okay. Meat Lovers or Hawaiian?”


	10. Chapter 10

Later that night, Tim was getting ready to sleep in Tony’s bed again, as they had learned the nightmares were becoming a regular occurrence and Tony needed someone to wake him up and calm him down. They fell asleep in their regular positions, both shirtless and on their backs. Tony usually began to fuss around 4AM, so they had decided to start going to bed earlier to allocate for that incase he was unable to get back to sleep, which had happened a couple times.  
Tonight, it was Tony who woke up to someone softly crying out beside him. Tim was flushed, sweating, reaching out for something with a shaking hand and a look of pure anguish on his face, his tears came fast as he dreamed.  
“Tim?” Tony said as he sat up, looking at his friend helplessly, and shook Tim’s side, willing him to wake up.  
“Tony…” Tim cried out weakly, still deep in sleep, but jolted awake when Tony shook him harder. It mirrored Tony’s nightmares, Tim awoke in the midst of a panic attack, panting with wide eyes as he stared at Tony, crying desperately, and Tony grabbed Tim’s hand.  
“Tim, you had a nightmare…” Tony trailed off. Tim clung to him in terror. “Timmy, I’m here, okay? I’m alive, and we caught that douchebag who hurt me. Hell, you caught that guy! You totally kicked his ass, ‘cause you’re super brave, okay?” Tim’s breathing relaxed, and he buried his head in Tony’s chest, still shaking against him. Tony watched him with a pain in his heart, it hurt him terribly to see his friend suffer like this. As Tim calmed, Tony stroked a hand through Tim’s hair, who puffed out air against his sternum and hiccuped occasionally. “You feeling better now?” Tony rumbled out quietly.  
“Mmh.” Tim responded, muffled. “Sorry.”  
“Don’t be sorry, it wasn’t your fault. You’re so apologetic of your feelings, man, and that’s not fair. They’re called feelings for a reason, ‘cause we feel them, and we don’t choose to do that, you know?” Tony squinted into the darkness, confusing himself a little, but Tim just nodded against his chest in understanding.  
“Can I tell you something, then?”  
“Go for it.”  
“I don’t know what I would’ve done if I lost you. The thought of losing you terrifies me.” Tim said, looking up at Tony, worrying his lip and awaiting the other man’s reaction. Tony blinked at Tim in understanding.  
“I know, man. I figured that out after you started to fuss so much. I know that if we switched places, I’d totally be the same. You’re my best friend.” It was funny to Tony that they were having this conversation whilst Tim was practically spooning him. He was surprised in himself that he welcomed the touch. “Can I tell you something kinda weird? I’ve always thought super highly of you, man. Like you’re just such a genuine and sweet person. All that teasing when I first met you was just me hoping you’d be my friend, in some weird way.”  
“Really?” Tim’s eyes gleamed. “So what was you hinting at me being gay all about, huh?” Tim had no idea where the remark came from, but it paid off when Tony went beet red. Tim pulled away and sat up, leaning on his elbow.  
“Timmy!” Tony spluttered. “That was just playful brotherly teasing. I was never trying to be suggestive. I’m as straight as an arrow.” He said, regaining his cool. Tim just laughed at him, feeling an odd warmth spread through his heart, one which he felt towards the other man. It was weirdly affectionate, and he’d felt it before and wondered what it was. _Is this the love Gibbs was talking about?_  
“When I first joined NCIS, I totally wanted to be like you. You were so cool, and I was just some computer nerd. It was like highschool all over again, man.”  
“You’re still the same computer nerd that we know and love. Oh, and I’m still cooler.”  
“You are not!”  
“Hah, I totally am! I get way more ladies than you.”  
“You do not! You’ve been having a dry spell for like, two years!”  
“That does it, probie! When I’m out of this sling I’m gonna beat you up!”  
“I can outrun you!”  
“Can not!”  
“Can too!”  
“I know way more about movies than you ever will.”  
“Yeah, but can you insert a flash drive into your computer?”  
“That was one time, Tim!” Tony weakly head-slapped him. Tim swatted his hand away and laughed.  
“Whatever. I have better abs than you, now.” Tony heated in the darkness as he glanced down at Tim’s bare stomach. _God, he does,_ Tony’s Adam’s Apple bobbed, _but I’ll never admit it!_  
“You do not! You’re still the soft little probie I met all those years ago. Remember when I threw that rock through the window?”  
“Uh, yeah. Because we were totally breaking and entering.” Tim said, rolling his eyes. Tony snickered in response, and it trailed off as he pondered something.  
“What happened in your nightmare?” Although Tim was caught off-guard by the question, he responded quickly.  
“I lost you.”  
“Oh.” Tony looked up at his closest friend, how his eyes danced in the moonlight that came through the window, and felt affection clench in his heart. Subconsciously, he wet his lips, and Tim looked surprised. Tony broke his gaze and looked away in embarrassment.  
“Do you know why Gibbs told me I should talk to you about my feelings?”  
“I know that there’s a reason.”  
“He said that I should tell you that I love you.” Tim responded, wincing, afraid that Tony may not react well. Tony stared at him, his lips parted in shock. “Apparently he could see that in me, and I didn’t know I felt that way, well, until now…”  
“Tim, I…” Tony ran a hand through his hair, chuffed, and he laughed softly as he looked up at Tim. “I’m guessing this isn’t really platonic.”  
“Not really.” Tim ducked his head. “It’s not any proper love, but um… I do have feelings for you. I’m not sure for how long, because I try to push away my feelings.”  
“I know you do. Timmy, when I first met you, I thought you were the cutest, shyest boy I’d ever met.”  
“Tony!”  
“I always had this little man-crush on you, y’know?”  
“Shut up! What’s with all the confessions tonight?”  
“There’s something in the air, Timmy.”  
“Don’t you dare start singing.”  
“I can feel it comi-” Tim placed a hand over Tony’s mouth.  
“If you don’t stop, I won’t kiss you.” Tim removed his hand when he was met with silence. That effectively shut him up, and Tony gaped at Tim, a flush rising up his neck.  
“Kiss me?” Tony finally managed.  
“We’ve both established that we like each other, haven’t we?”  
“Uh, I… Well, I guess, hah…” Tony responded nervously, his tone laced with confusion and excitement. “Just haven’t done this before. You’re not messing with me, right, Tim?”  
“I wouldn’t dare steal your job.”  
“Good.” Tony’s heart hammered wildly against his chest. For one, it felt like they were moving a little fast since they had only just confessed that they very much did want to jump one another, though on the other hand this also felt _way_ overdue. At least now Tony could diagnose why exactly he’d had that weird feeling in his stomach whenever Tim entered a room over the past few years. “Who would've known you’d be so forward, McConfident?”  
“I learned from the best.” Tim flashed his teeth, and Tony shifted so that he was sitting up next to Tim.  
“Well, we’re both half naked and we’ve just admitted our love to one another. What’re you gonna do about it?” Tim looked slyly at him and shifted to face Tony, who watched him in terrified excitement. “By the way, I’ve never been with a man before.”  
“Neither.” Tim slipped a hand up towards Tony’s face, having it reside against his neck and jawline. Without another second, Tony was met with Tim’s soft lips, and he tilted his head quickly. All the tension, especially in his shoulder, drained out of his body, and he slipped his good arm around Tim’s waist. Tony parted his lips, and Tim kissed him deeper, a heat rising in both of their faces, Tim’s free hand exploring Tony’s chest curiously. Tentatively, Tony slipped his tongue into Tim’s mouth. Tim let out a quiet moan into Tony’s lips, and was quick to steal dominance. Gently, without breaking apart too much, Tim straddled Tony’s thighs and was careful not to disturb his shoulder.  
“Tim…” Tony whispered, terrified excitement shooting through his abdomen and lower. Tim returned to kissing him passionately, with much love behind each movement, using both hands to feel across Tony’s chest, one experimentally tracing across a nipple. Tony broke away from Tim to let out a hiss of pleasure.  
“Does this feel weird to you?” Tim murmured against Tony’s neck, lips now beginning to work across the flesh, tongue dancing over his pulse point. Tony let out a sigh. He arched his neck upwards.  
“I dunno about weird, but it is new, considering you’re a gender I’m not used to.” Tony panted a little as Tim deliberately thrust his crotch against Tony’s in response. “Tim, you tease.”  
“Your shoulder feeling okay?” Tim murmured, his mouth now travelling over Tony’s chest.  
“Yeah, better than ever.” Tony responded, moaning loudly when Tim licked over a nipple. “But we can’t, well, you know… Go the whole way, uhm.”  
“Oh, I know. You’re not ready for that.” Tim looked up at him, his eyes full of affection, before darkening. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t pleasure you.” A shiver ran up Tony’s spine as he stared at Tim, his thoughts swimming erratically, ready yet not ready at the same time.  
“Timmy, I don’t know if I’m ready.” At this admission, Tim halted.  
“What’s wrong? You don’t have to do this, Tony.”  
“It’s not that… I do want this. With you. It’s just that I don’t know whether I’m ready to accept that I’m into guys, if that makes sense?”  
“It does. Do you want to stop?”  
“...No, I’m just kinda freaking out a bit, because I like this a lot, man.” Tim could completely understand where Tony was going with this, he was always well known for being a womanizer, a jock in college, all around masculine. Whether it was due to homophobic surroundings, peer pressure, or something else, Tony completely shied away from things considered ‘feminine’ and ‘gay’.  
“It’s okay, I get you. Maybe we should slow down?”  
“...Yeah.”  
Tony shyly stroked Tim’s chin, tilting it, and brought his face toward the other man’s. Their lips collided alike they had beforehand, it felt like a true first kiss, filled with nervous energy and also the feeling of safety, of solace, which they found in one another. It was tentative, Tony’s brain had finally caught up with him, and he felt himself enjoying Tim’s presence in an enhanced way. His scent wrapped around him, his body solid, pressed to him closely, his stubble scraping over Tony’s jaw, and it made his heart flutter as if he were fifteen years old again.  
Tony was struck with thoughts of his long friendship with Tim, his ever-intelligent, generous, gorgeous friend, and how they’d always sort of had a relationship all of their own, without realizing. It was their banter, inside jokes, nicknames, teasing, impenetrable for others, the bystanders who watched the veiled affection in amusement. Tony had always wanted Tim’s attention, wanted to tease him to gain it, make the nervous probie that he once was squirm and flush. It became endearing to Tony once Tim’s confidence grew, and more often it became Tony being put in his place, and eventually Tony being teased right back. It was their communication, their way of showing that they felt comfort in one another, an relentlessness love was felt however smothered. Now, it became more clear in his head. Their romance was inevitable.  
Tim had never been able to picture himself actually marrying a woman, spending the rest of his life with her, buying a house and watching TV together, both large and small pictures. With Tony, he saw the play fights, the teasing, sharing food, being protective, following one another into a crime scene, getting injured, getting married, tugging desperately at Tony’s tie until it came undone on their honeymoon, and he’d pretty much already started living with the other man. Tim saw the rest of his life in those gorgeous eyes.  
Tony, as the nape of his neck was softly petted, envisioned Tim’s expression when he’d first seen the stitched up wound. It was a horror he’d never before seen in anybody, and struck the ice of anxiety into his heart. To see Tim in such a state was a new level of unsettling, considering the other man barely revealed an emotion to Tony beside mild annoyance. Their biggest breakthrough was right after Tim killed that guy all those years ago. It was as if Tony had been waiting for Tim to admit how he felt, finally come to terms with the feeling itself and let it go, to accept he was allowed to be terrified. Seeing new layers in Tim only caused Tony to love the man more.  
Perhaps Tony was a little afraid to be cared for, having somebody fuss over him so much was initially overwhelming and his first instinct was to push Tim away. As he became more used to it, the help Tim offered to him became such a warm, welcome occurrence. Tony had never been used to comforting, he expected himself to take a beating and remain unaffected. For the longest time, he’d tricked himself into believing that was the truth about his feelings. Once Tim showed him such a love he’d never been exposed to before, Tony realized how safe he actually felt with the other man, a security foreign and unknown to him. He quickly learned to welcome it.

 

Gibbs stood in the dimly lit bullpen, a low buzz of noise the only breaker of silence. Tony sat at his desk in the corner, yawning at his bright computer screen, his shoulder remained immobilized in the sling, though soon it would be okay to move on its own. Tim sat in his desk chair next to Tony, close to him, peering at the monitor, apparently looking for something. Gibbs tilted his head upwards in pride. The entire team had gone to visit Tony at Tim’s apartment in separate intervals, all curious and sympathetic and glad Tony was okay. When Gibbs had visited about four weeks after Tony got out of hospital, he’d noticed the new tenderness the two men treated each other with. It instilled a sense of content in Gibbs to know that Tim had taken his advice, and probably ran with it. Something the special agent also found surprising was the way Tim confided in him, although not often, he seemed far less wary of Gibbs and more willing to ask for help.  
Gibbs and Abby were the only ones who knew, currently, that they were together. Since their relationship did not affect work, aside from when nobody was looking and they’d sneak a quick kiss, rule twelve was not an issue.  
Nobody else was really in the large, orange room aside the three of them, and Tim scanned the offices from his seat, before letting his guard down and cautiously kissing Tony on the head. Tony smiled softly, eyes heavy lidded, leaning his head on Tim’s shoulder and mumbling something sweet and unintelligible. Gibbs smirked at the two and bid his goodnight, entering the elevator and shaking his head in amusement. 

 

Samuel Conway admitted everything, his relationship with Hunt, and that he was behind the crime of passion committed due to their recent breakup. Hunt had managed to shoot him in the shin, which was where the blood they managed to find in the forest came from. Conway was sentenced to life without parole.

 

Also, Tony and Tim had sex in the janitor’s closet. And the elevator. 

 

The End!


End file.
